One shot - Katherine and Elijah
by khaleesilukrezia
Summary: This is a little one shot, of how i picture Katherine and Elijah or at least how i would like to. Was suppose to be a smut, but while writing went more emotional than anticipated. Hope you will like it. I am posting it thanks to Vero and Tina, love you gals :)


A dark corridor led to a small shadowy room lit by the feeble light of rush-lamps. This was apparently the destination. The scene upon which they intruded was ferociously original, if for no other reason than that the light, pushing up from the mud floor, touched out the eyebrows and lips and cheek-bones of the lovers while it left great patches of shadow on their faces. In a night so brilliant with stars where the glow worms in the shrill dry grass, gave back their ghostly shadow-light to the sky. There was nothing else to do but sit by her side, stroking that dark head of beautiful hair and saying nothing. Underneath, like a dark river, the noble quotation had taken as a text and which he read in a voice that trembled partly with emotion and partly with the fatigue of so much abstract thought: "The day of the bodyis the night for the spirit_. _

When the bodies cease their labour the spirits in man begin their work. The waking of the body is the sleep of the spirit and the spirit's sleep a waking for the body."Her peculiar innocence of childhood which shone out from under the fancy-dress was in startling contrast to the, usual well known Katherine everybody knew and admired. His words expired on the silence but the force with which the words had been uttered was still visible in the jut of the chin and the muscles which held his head upon his shoulders. She kissed him tenderly on the eyes. She possessed his body and soul. With her he was not himself, he turned into someone he would love to be, if he ever dared to admit. Someone worthy of affection, worthy of love, to give and receive. That dualism broke him to pieces.

They laid for a long time, side by side ; he laid with half-shut eyes while Katherine was up on one elbow, shading her eyes with the palm of one hand and watching his face. Whenever he was talking she had the habit of gazing at his lips with a curious half-mocking, an almost outspoken intentness, as if she were waiting for him to mispronounce a word.

She worded something she thought she never would " "What is this?" She held her breath, gazing at him, then looking aside, showing doubt and weakness, something unfamiliar in her.

"This, plaything between the sheets.." she looked around the room, as if trying to find an escape.

Words she muttered, she can not take back. But before he could say anything she leaned down and kissed him. This seemed so much out of character that he turned with some sort of half-formulated reproach on his lips — but from hereon, her kisses were like tremendous soft breathless stabs punctuating the laughter which seemed to well up in her chest ; unstable laughter. It struck him then that she was like someone who had had a bad fright. If he said now what they both thought, she would bounce back with a retort and the magic of the night would be gone. Between those breathless half-seconds when he felt her strong mouth on his own and those olive skinned arms closing upon his own :

"I would not mistake it for self-indulgence. We are too worldly for that: what is this then?" he breathed.

'I do not know' she said with a savage, desperate expression of humility upon her face, 'I do not know'; and she pressed herself upon him like someone pressing upon a bruise.

It was as if she wished to plunge out the very thought of him, and yet in the fragile context of every kiss found a sort of painful realism : doomed to hunt what we least dare to find. For the first time, there and that moment, she let go, let go of her preserved picture of herself, picture she sold every night in that burlesque bar, playing the overly confident, sarcasm filled women, this time she was just a girl, girl needed to be taken care of. In each and every way. He had meant to be gentle, very gentle with her, to him she was as broken as he was, not minding others and ways she treated them.

She is giving him herself, her soul as bare as her body, and he knows just how much this means to her. He would take his time, taking in her soft skin glow, the curves of her body which breathed perfection, her needy eyes that spoke to him more than words. They kissed endless,as if time stopped. Until he discovered, she did not want gentleness, carefulness, and courting. She wanted him, with firm directness. Passion and savage touch that their both immobile hearts seem to beat in their minds. He finally gave into lust and her steady movements, that aroused him senseless. He pushed into her with all he had, all the guarded emotion, all denied feelings and lingering touches in the spring air of their long walks, all the while looking into her eyes and she looking back at him,softly. And the sensation is of something having noiselessly exploded inside each of them. They let the wave to subside,all the while, being intertwined by body and heart.


End file.
